Forest of the Pygmies Read Free

American boy to sit before her. She pulled a worn leather sack from her bosom and emptied its contents onto the painted cloth: white shells, worn smooth with wear. She began to mutter something in her language, without relinquishing the cigar, which she held clamped between her teeth.
    â€œ Anglais? English?” Alexander queried.
    â€œYou come from a distant place, far away. What do you want of Má Bangesé?” she replied in a comprehensible mixture of African words and English.
    Alexander shrugged his shoulders and smiled nervously, looking at Nadia out of the corner of his eye to see if she had any idea what was going on. She pulled a couple of bills from her pocket and put them in one of the gourds that held the offerings of money.
    â€œMá Bangesé can read your heart,” said the gigantic woman, speaking to Alexander.
    â€œAnd what is in my heart?”
    â€œYou are looking for medicines to cure a woman,” she said.
    â€œMy mother isn’t sick any longer; her cancer is in remission . . .” Alexander murmured, frightened, not understanding how a witch in a market in Africa could know about Lisa Cold.
    â€œAt any rate, you fear for her,” said Má Bangesé. She shook the shells in one hand and tossed them like dice. “The life or death of that woman is not in your hands,” she added.
    â€œWill she live?” Alexander asked anxiously.
    â€œIf you go back, she will live. If you do not, she will die of sadness, not illness.”
    â€œOf course I’m going back home!” the youth protested.
    â€œNothing is sure. There is much danger, but you are strong of heart. You must use your courage, otherwise you will die and this girl will die with you,” she declared, pointing to Nadia.
    â€œWhat does that mean?” Alexander asked.
    â€œA person can do harm, and a person can do good. There is no reward for doing good, only satisfaction in your soul. There are times you must fight. You will have to decide.”
    â€œWhat am I to do?”
    â€œMá Bangesé sees the heart; she cannot show the way.”
    And turning toward Nadia, who had sat down beside Alexander, she placed a finger on her forehead, between her eyes.
    â€œYou are magic, and you have the vision of birds; you see from above, from afar. You can help him,” she said.
    She closed her eyes and began to rock back and forth as sweat poured down her face and neck. The heat was unbearable. The smells of the market filled their nostrils: rotted fruit, garbage, blood, gasoline. Má Bangesé let forth a guttural sound that came from deep in her belly, a long, hoarse lament that rose in tone until the ground shook, as if it came from the depths of the earth. Dizzy and perspiring, Nadia and Alexander were afraid they were going to faint. The air in the tiny, smoke-filled space became unbreathable. More and more befuddled, they wanted to leave but they couldn’t move. They were shaken by the vibration of drums; they heard dogs howling, their mouths filled with bitter saliva, and before their incredulous eyes the enormous woman melted away, like a burst balloon, and in her place emerged a fabulous bird with splendid yellow and blue plumage and a turquoise-colored crest. This bird-of-paradise unfolded the rainbow of its wings, wrapped Nadia and Alex inside, and flew away with them.
    Nadia and Alexander were launched into space. They could see themselves like two pinpoints of black ink lost in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors and undulating forms mutating at a terrifying speed. They were transformed into Roman candles, their bodies exploding into sparks. They lost any notion of being alive, or of time or fear. Then the sparks fused into an electric vortex, and again they saw themselves as two minute points caroming among the designs of the fantastic kaleidoscope. Now they were two astronauts, hand in hand, floating in starry space. They could not feel their bodies but they